Prison
by BoomChick
Summary: An incarcerated librarian with an environmental terrorist roommate, a mysterious and familiar ex-yakuza gangster with mischief in his mismatched eyes, and a very long reading list. Prison is not what Cloud Strife expected. Sephiroth/Cloud, written as a prize on tumblr for Cactuscarousel! Contains some violence! Cover art by TOMOWOWOWO! Find her on tumblr or in my profile!


**A/N:** Written as a prize for Cactuscarousel! This got way out of control, and I LOVE IT. I hope you guys do too!  
**Contains some violence and mentions of _consensual_ sex**  
Disclaimer: I do not own FFVII or any related works. Please support the official releases and merchandise!

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**PRISON**

"Great," Groused the enormous man sitting on the bottom bunk as he scowled at the doorway. "Stickin' me with another spikey-haired punk kid."

Cloud froze in the doorway, his hands clenching at his sides in anxiety and defensiveness. The guard standing at his back gave him a sharp shove, sending him stumbling into the cell. One of his legs gave out, and he ended up on his knees. He grimaced in pain at the jarring contact as the guard behind him snorted and swung the door closed. It slammed shut with a heavy finality.

Cloud closed his eyes, staying where he'd fallen, trying to breathe through his shame and fear. This wasn't how his life was supposed to go. He was just a librarian. He'd never meant to hurt anyone.

"Hey," the rough, sharp voice of his roommate said from far too close.

Cloud jerked his head up, looking into the foreboding frown of the other convict. The man towered over him in a solid wall of muscle. Cloud blinked, his eyes flickering to the stump of the man's right arm before looking back to his scowling face.

"You alright?" The man rumbled, offering his only hand to Cloud.

Cloud stared at the offered hand, his heart hammering in fear. Should he take it? Was it a trap? Or some sort of contract? Could he afford to piss off his enormous, muscley roommate? He took a deep breath and gripped the man's hand as firmly as he could, accepting the offer of help. He was pulled swiftly and easily to his feet.

"I'm fine," he muttered, quickly releasing the others hand. "Thanks."

His roommate grunted in acknowledgement. "Name's Barret," he said, eyeing Cloud out of assessing eyes. "Who're you?"

"Cloud." The blond replied, fighting the urge to dust himself off and struggling to sound masculine.

"What brings a scrawny little thing like you here, huh?"

"I—" Cloud broke off, a thousand lies popping into his head in response. What would sound best and most believable without making him sound like a target? His mouth started up again before he could stop it. "I was planning to blow up the meeting room at city hall, but they found me out before I could figure out the janitorial schedule to make sure no one would be in there."

The man stared at him, then gave a great guffaw of laughter, slapping Cloud's shoulder. Cloud winced at the apparently affectionate hit.

"Another activist!" Barret exclaimed, looking delighted. "They tossed me in here after I let the wrong fella into my Environmental Protection crew. Maybe I'll look you up once we're outta here!"

"Environmental protection?" Cloud asked, wondering what that was code for.

"Fuck yeah!" Barret's face lit up with his enthusiasm. "Avalanche! We take on all the bastards screwing up our planet who the hippy-dippy protesters can't get to! Burn 'em down, rip 'em up, whatever it takes to make sure our kids have a healthy planet waiting for them!"

"You have kids?" Cloud asked, running an uneasy hand through his hair.

"Got a little girl waitin' for me at home! Hold on, I gotta picture of her somewhere. Her name's Marlene! She's not a lot littler than you, actually…"

Cloud couldn't believe his luck. He'd ended up in a room with another convicted 'terrorist'—one whose views he shared, to an extent—who seemed more likely to think of him as a kid than a threat or a potential conquest. He sagged a little, letting out a slow breath as Barret unearthed a treasure trove of pictures of a precious little girl with a long braided ponytail and a grin as fierce as it was sweet.

It became instantly obvious how very lucky he had gotten when he stepped outside the cell with his new roommate. He found himself the center of attention, and straightened, lifting his chin. It didn't escape his notice that a good number of the people watching him glanced to Barret. He saw his roommate give a small thumbs up at his side and a little nod. And suddenly the focus drifted off Cloud and back onto the guards and their guns watching over them.

He should have heaved a sigh of relief, but his eye was caught by a man across the row of cells. He stood there, tall and proud, looking down his nose at the guard patrolling past him as they lined up to be escorted to dinner. There was a coldness about him, and even standing at regulated distances, the people around him seemed to be leaning away as much as they could. His hair fell down his back in silver glory, and Cloud couldn't comprehend how he'd managed to keep it like that in this place.

His attention was snapped back into place when the line he was in started moving, and he forced himself to follow Barret. He couldn't see far ahead of himself at all, thanks to the massive bulk of his roommate's muscles being directly in his eyeline, but he kept his eyes forward, forcing himself not to look at the silver-haired badass who'd caught his eye.

His focus lasted until he was sitting next to Barret with a plate of barely-edible stuff that looked like what he'd been served in elementary school. Then his eyes lifted to glance across the next two tables to where the man was sitting. The seats to either side of the silver-haired prisoner were occupied by men who were definitely not the cell mates who'd leaned away from him. There was a redhead with a wry smile on his lips and a graceful laziness about him sitting at his right, and a dark-haired man with a severe goatee on his left. The dark-haired man had his arms crossed as he scanned the room.

"Cloud, meet my pals," Barret rumbled, clapping Cloud's shoulder in his good hand and pointing around the table. "Cid Highwind—got caught planning an assassination of the man who canceled the space program in Midgar."

"You smoke?" Asked Cid roughly across the table.

"Um, no." Cloud muttered, aborting his usual 'nice to meet you' at the address.

"Good! More for me!" The man said, fishing in his pocket and pulling out a packet of instant tea, cracking it into his drink and passing one to Cloud. "Have some tea."

"Thanks." Cloud said, taking it carefully, eyeing the man with uncertainty.

"This is Biggs," Barret pointed at a slim latino man with a wicked smirk and knowing eyes. "He's one of my tech guys with Wedge there."

"Yo." Biggs said, lifting his chin in acknowledgement of Cloud.

"Hi." Wedge muttered, fiddling with the red bandanna in his hair. He gave a big grin. He didn't look much like a terrorist, but Cloud shrugged the thought off and nodded to them both.

"You got any questions, you come to me or this crew," Barret said firmly. "It's not my full crew of course—They sent Tifa and Jessie to the Lady Joint, so we're running without one of my techs and my best fighter."

"Nice to meet you all," Cloud said, and instantly winced at how horribly _polite_ he had sounded.

Cid snorted, but Biggs and Wedge smiled and turned to eating swiftly. Cloud allowed his gaze to travel back to the silver haired man across the dining hall again, noting how he surveyed the room more like a warden than a prisoner.

"Something catch yer eye, kid?" Cid asked from across the table where he was chewing on his ridiculous plastic fork as though he wished it were a cigarette.

"The guy with the silver hair," Cloud murmured after a moment. "Who is that?"

The table went still, and eyes turned to Cloud again. A hush fell over even the people not in their little conversation group. Cid let out a slow breath through his nose, a vein twitching in his temple. Biggs shivered.

"Sephiroth," Barret answered in a hushed voice. "No-Last-Name. They say he's ex-yakuza. Came here to Midgar when he realized the pockets and corruption were both deeper."

"I've never heard of him," Cloud murmured. "Is he famous or something?"

"Ya'd think, with the hair," Cid replied. "But if ya ain't underbelly scum like us ya'd probably never hear a whisper about him. Even the officers know better 'n to get on his bad side. He's a class-A badass. They call him 'The General.' Not loudly though."

"They say he doesn't even use a gun," Barret muttered from beside Cloud. "He still uses knives and swords to handle his dirty work. I'd stay the hell away from him if I were you."

"He seems familiar," Cloud murmured, staring at the cold, lofty expression on the man's face while another prisoner approached his table in a cringe, appealing to him in what seemed to be whispered desperation. "I'm sure I've seen him before."

"Then you should count your lucky stars that you're still alive, kid," The terrorist muttered in reply. "He ain't got no morals like some of the rest of us. He'll take down anyone in his way, no matter what. I'd sooner bring home a rabid crocodile ta see my girl than him. At least I'd know what to expect from the crocodile."

"Crocodiles don't get rabies," Cloud muttered in reply. "It's a mammalian disease. You might get leprosy, though."

He never did register much of Barret's response to that aside from the initial cursing. The cold green eyes of the so-called 'general' slid off of the prisoner addressing him and fixed on Cloud with an eerie intensity. Cloud knew he ought to look away—Was this some kind of weird dominance thing?—But he just stared back. He was certain he knew the gangster somehow. He was sure of it. And yet how would he ever have forgotten such memorable hair—such striking eyes.

A slow smile crossed the icy man's face, and Cloud inhaled sharply, looking back to his dinner. He tried not to let his cheeks flush under the handsome man's attention. He bit his lip sharply and lifted his head to join back in the conversation with the strange men around him. He was lucky to have found backup so quickly. He wasn't going to blow it by letting them know which way he swung.

The routine of prison, he found, was mind-numbing. He was strikingly glad to have met Barret and his friends for more than protection by the time a few days had passed. Barret might come across gruff and mean, but he was whip-smart where it counted. Cloud was reminded of a quote his mother had been fond of—"Everyone you will ever meet knows something you don't." He'd learned more about aerospace engineering from Cid, more about technology from Biggs and Wedge, and more about organizing groups of people from Barret than he ever would have thought possible.

By the third day, he felt more than prepared to launch a much better terrorist attack than his first try had been, if he ever needed.

Prison was far from enjoyable, but he found himself startlingly relaxed quickly enough. Days passed swiftly, and Barret's daily letters from Marlene gave them both something to talk about, at least for part of the day. Barret always read them aloud. Cloud felt like he ought to be sick of hearing about the little girl, but something about the very idea of her delighted him. Soon, he found himself sharing his own stories with his roommate and his crew of terrorists.

It quickly became obvious that they all had similar passions. They wanted freedom of information, transparency in the government, and safety for the planet as a whole. Cloud learned to be more environmentally conscious in the first few weeks of his jail sentence than he had been all his life before. Partially because no one in his usual circle of friends or family would deck him for throwing away a recyclable. Barret had no qualms about doing so, and Cloud had sported a lovely shiner for a day or two, matched by a bewildered expression. Cid had laughed at him for ages.

And in the background of the painfully routine days and the letters from little girls, and the stories of daring terrorist escapades, Cloud found his days full of the cold green-eyed stare of the silver haired gangster. He listened to the whispers of those on the outskirts of Barret's social circles.

'He's a science experiment,' some whispered. 'Built to be a perfect killer.'

'He had his teeth sharpened,' some said, 'to better tear out people's throats. That's why he never smiles—so you won't see it coming.'

'He had surgery to give himself slit-pupiled eyes so he'd look more like a wild cat.' he heard a man whisper once. 'No one knows who did the surgery, though. Or what he did it for. Think he can see better in the dark?'

Cloud watched Sephiroth whenever he could. He heard about his left and right hands, Genesis and Angeal, but he could never pay much attention to them. They were rarely without Sephiroth, when they were in public at all, and then Cloud only had eyes for that perfectly sculpted face and those wicked eyes. He could swear he'd seen him before. It kept him up at night, wondering how he could know him and not remember.

But he knew better than to approach. Barret's crew had no beef with Sephiroth's and they intended to keep it that way.

"Long as he doesn't go starting up multi-million dollar oil drilling projects, Avalanche has no beef with him," Barret said with a shrug. "And long as we don't go moving into any of his business, Sephiroth's got no beef with us."

Cloud was reasonably certain that was an unspoken agreement, though. He couldn't imagine a face-to-face conversation between his rough-and-tumble one-armed roommate and the perfect, haughty 'General' going smoothly.

All in all, things went better than he ever would have believed.

Right up until Barret and his crew got into a fistfight with a man who tossed a cigarette butt on to the prison lawn and refused to pick it up. Cloud was heading to join in the confrontation himself when the guards showed up to brutally pull apart the combatants.

Within a span of moments, Cloud had gone from content and protected to terrifyingly alone in the prison yard. His eyes widened as he watched the guards haul off his cursing roommate, his one arm shackled to the belly chain he wore in case of disobedience. He caught a breath, casting about the yard for any of the men he'd been introduced to. Instead, he locked eyes with Sephiroth again. They seemed to catch eyes more often than Cloud had ever accidentally made eye contact with anyone before. He quickly tore his gaze away, straightening his back and starting to walk towards a more isolated area of the field, where at least he would be able to keep an eye on all his open sides.

"Cloud." Barked a voice from behind him that struck all sorts of recognition within him, though he could not put a name to the sound.

He whirled towards it at once.

Looking back on that moment, he would realize that turning was the only thing that kept the sharpened plastic from piercing straight through to his kidney. But at the time, all he registered was the blinding flash of pain as something dug into his flesh over his hip bone, tearing through skin as he turned. He let out a sharp yell of pain, backing off. The man holding the knife snarled, his scarred face twisting in annoyance. Cloud barely recognized him. Barret had warned him away—something about the scarred man being an old enemy of his. Cloud didn't even know his name. The attacker closed the distance between them, his hand and impromptu knife held down by his side rather than raised in movie fashion.

Cloud stepped back, pressing a hand to his bloody side. His mind seemed to process everything at once through a haze of shock. The guards wouldn't have returned enforce from delivering Barret and his crew to the higher security areas of the jail. Those remaining were clustered together, muttering.

He stared into the attacker's bright eyes, and felt an inexplicable rage. He wasn't even going to die over a personal grudge. He was going to die as a way to hurt his surprisingly tender-hearted environmental-terrorist cellmate.

He lifted his free hand in the last second, ready to at least punch the bastard about to murder him in the nose. His punch connected. The knife did not.

He staggered back, his knuckles stinging. Before him, Sephiroth—"The General"—was holding Barret's enemy in place with just a grip on his wrist. Green eyes glanced to Cloud, then slid back to the man holding the knife. Cloud choked on a breath, pressing both his hands over his bleeding side.

"Mother fucker!" Hissed the scarred man. "The hell do you care?"

Sephiroth's gaze slid down to the knife. "You're holding a weapon." He purred mildly, his low familiar voice the same one that had called Cloud's name the first time. "This is self-defense."

He moved so quickly that Cloud couldn't understand what had just happened. One moment they were standing, Sephiroth's hand locked around the other man's wrist, and the next Cloud's attacker was face down on the ground. Cloud stared as the man gave a startled, gurgling sound. He'd somehow fallen with his own improvised knife jammed into his neck. One look at the sharp, brutal smile on Sephiroth's lips erased any idea that it might have been an accident.

"Come." Sephiroth said firmly, the smile vanishing as though it had never been there.

His hand shifted, taking Cloud under his left elbow and towing him towards the gateway. Guards were already running over to meet them. Cloud didn't even think of fighting against the hold on his elbow. Under his right hand his blood was hot and sticky, and it kept coming...

"Stand aside." Sephiroth said coolly, not breaking stride as they approached the armed guards. "He's hurt. Two of you accompany us to the medical ward."

"You don't give the orders here." One of the guards argued.

"Shut your face, Matthews." Another snapped, his facial expression annoyed. "Donovan, Trig, walk 'em to the med ward."

"Wh…" Cloud's breath hitched as he stumbled along at Sephiroth's side. "Why are you…"

"Not here." Sephiroth replied distantly, his voice a low rumble.

Cloud shivered, clenching his teeth to hold back from making a noise as Sephiroth led him back to the locked doors, waiting for the guards to open the way inside before taking the lead with Cloud again. He knew he'd heard that voice before. He tried to focus on remembering where instead of the biting, tearing pain in his side and everything he knew about the risk of infection from unclean stab wounds.

A buzzer sounded above them, signaling that all the prisoners were to return to their cells. Sephiroth ignored it with the ease of long practice, practically carrying Cloud down the hallway. Sephiroth's hand on his elbow felt almost as warm as the blood coating his fingers from his stomach.

"Keep moving." Sephiroth's voice was barely audible, but Cloud couldn't shake the feeling that it was strangely kind. "Keep your head up. It's nowhere near as bad as it might have been."

"It feels plenty bad." Cloud bit out, glaring at him despite himself.

The gangster raised an aristocratic eyebrow, and smirked at him.

"Feisty." Sephiroth said in a low purr that made Cloud's fight or flight instincts click right back on, as they had the moment he saw the knife. He almost bolted down the nearest hallway, side-wound be damned.

He fought back the instinct, but wavered as the adrenaline rush made him light-headed. Sephiroth's grip on his elbow tightened, and the man hitched him up a little. By his elbow. It didn't even seem to take him much effort to physically lift half of Cloud's weight with one hand.

Cloud had not been to the prison's medical facilities before. The door looked much like every other door in the prison except for the plain black wording on it that said "medic." It seemed just as aged as the rest of the prison, and Cloud almost changed his mind about going all together. If not for the force of Sephiroth pulling him forward, he never would have willingly crossed the threshold. He could only imagine what sort of horrors lurked inside.

He blinked when he was greeted by a woman with the sweetest green eyes he had ever seen and long braided hair down her back. She was approaching the door as they walked in, and let out a breath when they entered.

"I heard someone had been hurt. Sephiroth, what are you doing here? You never come to visit."

"Just a friend of your victim." Sephiroth said mildly, drawing Cloud over to one of the cots. They looked just like the ones in the doctor's offices of his youth, with white paper scrolled over poorly padded chairs leaned back at a forty five degree angle.

"Miss Aerith, we'll be here to guard you." One of the guards was standing at attention, even as the other kept his gun down but ready. "The patients records aren't here yet, so we should restrain him just in case he's violent."

"My dear boys," Aerith tutted. "I have The General in my room. If he cared to, he'd have killed us all already. I think I'm perfectly safe. Go guard the door so I can maintain at least a little doctor patient confidentiality."

"Sit." Sephiroth urged Cloud in a low voice, speaking almost directly into his ear. The heat of his breath brushing over the shell of his ear made Cloud shudder and the word bypassed Cloud's natural obstinacy to go straight to his spinal cord. He sat abruptly, and gasped hollowly at the spike of pain that jolted through him.

His vision tunneled, and he tried to fight back the impending unconsciousness. He was vaguely aware of a hand on his chest, steering him to lie back, and a strong arm hooking his knees and lifting his legs to rest on the cot as well.

"How is our patient, then?"

"It's a flesh wound, but a fairly bad one." Sephiroth's voice was so familiar, Cloud thought fuzzily as he listened to him speak. If only he could remember where he'd heard it.

"He's bleeding buckets. Who did this?"

"Someone who is not in need of your medical attention." Sephiroth said calmly. "I believe he may have accidentally landed upon his own knife. The last I saw of him, it was being very affectionate with his windpipe."

"You killed him?" The woman asked, aghast.

"Not at all." Sephiroth said mildly. "He fell. An unfortunate accident. If he had not been carrying a contraband piece of weaponry, he would have been perfectly fine. Such a pity that some people cannot follow the rules, don't you think?"

"Nevermind." She huffed. "Asking you for a straight answer is like asking a cat 'what happened' when you find a flower pot broken."

Cloud gasped in a breath as his hand was pulled away from his bleeding side by a grip around his wrist that he could not fight. He briefly struggled, but another hand touched his chest, firm but gentle, and a low voice rumbled in his ear.

"Easy, Cloud. Let the lady work."

The General knew his name. He hadn't been hearing things when someone called his name. _The General_—the most notorious gangster in the entire prison—knew his name, Cloud settled, blinking the blurriness out of his gaze to look up at Sephiroth.

"How do I know you?" He whispered, even as the lady called Aerith cut his prison-issue shirt off of him to better look to his wound.

Sephiroth stared at him out of bright green eyes. The one on the right looked normal, if intense, but the one on the left… His left eye had a slit pupil. Cloud shivered at the look, but then tilted his head, watching in confusion.

"Do you have cat's-eye coloboma?" He asked blearily.

Sephiroth gave a low chuckle, sitting back. "Leave it to a librarian." He muttered, with a great deal of amusement and what sounded like fondness.

Cloud bit back a scream as the small woman pressed down on his injury with more force than should have been possible from someone so small. He stared at her in alarm, and was met with a calm smile, as though it was taking nothing out of her to hold such pressure on the gaping hole over his hip. The gauze between her hands was turning red quickly, but she looked calm and secure.

"I'm impressed you recognize it." She praised calmly. "But I'd advise you not to pry too much. Your 'friend' is quite the dangerous man, and he doesn't like anyone to read him too closely."

"You say 'friend' with such suspicion. You wound me." Sephiroth purred mildly, turning to her as though Cloud wasn't grimacing in pain between them.

"Oh please." She huffed. "If there was any more of your little possy here, the entire prison would be cowering in their boots. You, Genesis, and Angeal at once is already pushing it. I swear I heard those guards whimpering when you looked at them."

"I do not have a 'possy,' Aerith." Sephiroth argued with a scowl. "Only low-level thugs have 'possy's. I have partners."

"Whatever you want to call it," Aerith said dismissively. "Cloud's obviously as confused about it as I am, aren't you dear?"

"What?" Cloud asked rather hopelessly.

Aerith gave him a fond, comforting look, dropping the teasing for a moment. "I'm sorry. I forget not everyone's used to this. Don't fret, you'll be quite alright. What happened, exactly?"

"Someone tried to stab me," Cloud muttered through the pain, his brows twisting. "S...Sephiroth stopped them…" He could have cursed himself for stuttering over the gangster's name.

"Is that so?" Aerith shot Sephiroth a suspicious look.

"They will probably try again." Sephiroth said mildly. "My word only goes so far, and your friend Wallace has more enemies than you have allies, little Librarian. You're out of your depth."

"Barret Wallace?" Aerith asked, looking back to Cloud with a warm smile. "Now there's a partnership that looks more like you. Barret's a sweetheart once you get past the bravado. How's his little girl?"

"Um, good?" Cloud offered, wincing as Aerith pulled away the soaked-through gauze and hummed to herself before replacing it with a fresh pad of cotton.

"Cloud will be in danger if left to the devices of the other prisoners." Sephiroth said as though he had little interest, lifting a hand to look over his nails, and picking out what looked like a fleck of blood. "I was going to ask that you put in a word with the warden for Cloud to be moved to my room for a few nights while his usual cellmate finishes his stay in solitary."

Aerith lifted suddenly narrowed eyes to Sephiroth, the look on her face all suspicion. "We'll see. First I'd like to know why you decided help, oh General. Altruism isn't usually your style"

"Aerith, you wound me," Sephiroth commented, his voice low and amused. "And to answer your question, it was on my way."

"On your way." She gave him a skeptical look. "On your way to _what_, may I ask?"

"I was going to play basketball."

She barked out a laugh. "You _what?_"

"Excuse me," Sephiroth said calmly. "I meant to say I was going to _win_ at basketball."

"You aren't inspiring my confidence."

"I helped him, didn't I? What does the reason matter?"

"I'll put it this way," she said firmly. "Convince me, or it doesn't happen."

Sephiroth gave a low growl, and Cloud could have sworn he saw his eyes flash. Aerith stayed calm and steady, facing him down as though he were a spoiled child and not a dangerous criminal. Eventually, it was Sephiroth who averted his gaze.

"He has good taste in books." Sephiroth muttered.

Aerith snorted. "Please, that's almost as bad as your basketball excuse."

She pulled the gauze away, and nodded at the lack of fresh bleeding.

"Allergic to any medications?" She asked, waiting with a smile for Cloud to shake his head before pulling out a needle and injecting him swiftly. Almost instantly, Cloud let out a breath as he felt the pain in his side lessen with numbness.

"I don't suppose you could have done that before all the pushing?" He muttered.

"Sorry, dear." Aerith said through that same calm smile. "But you'll be glad that I did before the stitching that comes next."

"It isn't an excuse." Sephiroth growled, interrupting them both dead.

Cloud slid his eyes over to Sephiroth, watching as the man glared at Aerith. He felt very much like a third wheel in the discussion, which was highly disturbing, considering that mainly what they were discussing was him.

"You're serious." Aerith said blankly. "How do you know his taste in books, exactly? Did you two sit down to some cucumber sandwiches in tea during yard breaks and chat about Jane Austen?"

"Don't bring Jane Austen into this." Sephiroth scolded.

"Wait," Cloud breathed, blinking. "Wait I… I remember...Your voice… You're the man from the phone, right? You put books on hold once a week! You always… Asked for my recommendations…"

He trailed off as he spoke, gazing up at Sephiroth with entirely new awe.

"Now you remember." Sephiroth purred, tilting his chin upwards just a little.

"_You were right," his mystery client over the phone purred. "I very much enjoyed catching up on Herman Hesse. But I think for this week I would enjoy something a little more...Modern. And preferably with more than subtextual homosexuality, if you get my drift."_

"_Not much of a drift to get." Cloud laughed into the mouthpiece, his fingers typing busily over their catalogue, hunting for the first books that came to mind. "Give me a genre to work with."_

"_I would prefer something in the science fiction realm, but I know they can be hard to come by."_

"_How do you feel about lesbians?" Cloud asked, pulling up a few of the first that came to mind._

"_Ambivalent, but more than willing to read."_

"_I think Heart of Valor might suit you…" Cloud muttered, checking on their availability. "We have it in, it looks like."_

"_I'll take it. And for gay men?"_

"_Hmm…" Cloud considered. There were more than there once had been, but at times, that made it more difficult to recall them on the fly._

"_Not something you're interested in?" The mystery voice asked._

"_Oh, no, it's something I'm _very _into!" Cloud protested quickly, before he clasped a hand over his mouth, staring blankly at his screen. The lovely voice on the other end of the phone gave a soft, slow chuckle in response, and Cloud tried desperately to hide the blush rising in his cheeks from his coworkers and the other patrons._

"_Me too." The man on the phone purred. "I'm glad to know you can make me educated recommendations on that front as well."_

"_Do you think you might come in and pick them up in person this time?" Cloud found himself asking. "You always send your valet…"_

"_You know," the man purred, "I think I might. I'm afraid I have to go now, Cloud. Thank you, as always, for the recommendations. Pick me out something nice for my request. Perhaps I will see you on Friday when I come to retrieve them."_

"I wasn't there on Friday," Cloud whispered, staring straight ahead. "The library was closed while they discussed the finances, and then on Saturday…"

"You tried to blow up the city hall." Sephiroth said mildly. "I read all about it. And you were right, by the way. I enjoyed Heart of Valor immensely. But you never did get around to making that recommendation based on my request."

"I wanted it to be perfect." Cloud said softly, blinking at him briskly. "It was going to be our first in-person impression and all…"

"A terrorist librarian?" Aerith said dryly. "Really, Sephiroth? That's why you've stayed locked up so long this time?"

"What?" Cloud asked, turning his head to Aerith swiftly before looking away as she sank a needle into his side, stitching him closed.

"Oh, Sephiroth hardly ever stays locked up for more than a week or two. His legal team is too good and he's too clever."

"You flatter me," Sephiroth purred, inclining his head. "But honestly, if there were ever any evidence that was not colored with the court's view of me, I would happily serve my time. As it is, I am innocent until unequivocally proven guilty. It just so happens that they have not proven that beyond a shadow of a doubt yet."

Aerith scowled at him and pointed to the door. "Shoo, General. Let me make sure my patient is in one piece. If he wants to stay with you, I'll talk to the warden."

"I want to!" Cloud said swiftly, sitting forward in his eagerness.

Two hands caught him on the chest, pushing him back to the bed, one from Aerith and one from Sephiroth. The silver-haired man gave him a mild frown of disapproval, but Cloud couldn't help but think he looked at least a little bit amused.

"See?" Sephiroth asked, lifting his head to smirk at Aerith.

"Out." The woman repeated firmly, pointing to the door.

"Um…" Cloud said slowly. "I feel a little… Weird…"

The woman looked back to him and gave him a warm smile. "Don't worry. That's almost certainly the sedative. Just means that it's working. You're going to take a little nap while I finish up, and then you'll wake up good as new. Alright?"

"Sephiroth?" Cloud asked. His eyes were going hazy, but he could still see well enough to watch the man turn to face him. "Will I see you again?"

"I'm positive." Sephiroth purred in that low, sensual voice that Cloud had looked forward to hearing every two weeks when his mystery caller asked for recommendations.

That was the last Cloud knew of being in medical. The image of Sephiroth's intense gaze swam behind his closed eyes, even as all else was darkness. He'd always wondered who his mystery patron was. now that he'd seen that silver hair and those unforgettable eyes, he understood why he always sent someone in his place. He'd have ground all business at the library to a halt with the sheer power of his presence.

Cloud jerked awake with a gasp, disoriented and confused. His eyes were blurry, and he rubbed his hand across them, forcing himself to sit up, trying to prepare to fight. His heart was hammering in adrenaline in his chest.

"Relax." A smooth voice said calmly in an order that cut straight through Cloud's panic. The blond took a breath, blinking his eyes. His abdomen throbbed in pain.

He squinted against the light of reality as his eyes managed to focus on the figure wandering towards him from across the room with slow, purposeful steps.

"Sephiroth?" He rasped in confusion.

"You'll be disoriented for a moment, but you should be back to yourself soon." The man said, sliding a hand through his silver hair, pushing one of his long arched bangs over his shoulder.

"I'm… I'm…" Cloud blinked, struggling to process.

"Injured but alive," Sephiroth supplied, a slow smirk working its way over his face. "And currently assigned as my roommate. At least until Wallace has gotten out of solitary confinement."

Cloud swallowed hard, his mouth dry. The beautiful gangster stared down at him a moment, then lifted a finger, turning away from him. Cloud couldn't pull his eyes off the length of shining silver hair. What sort of connections did this man have, he wondered, to wrangle enough time in the showers to wash that much hair so nicely.

He phazed out for a moment, the thought of Sephiroth in the shower making his head swim even more than the thought of naked men usually did. He blinked his eyes clear in time to see a very amused General crouching before him, a glass of water held out in offer.

"I feel weird." Cloud proclaimed softly.

"You're dehydrated from blood loss." Sephiroth clarified. "And still partially sedated. If you don't want to embarrass yourself, I would recommend not talking too much before you are recovered, but I certainly won't object if you chose to continue. You are as amusing like this as you are delightful on the phone."

Cloud took the water, blinking at him in confusion for a moment. His head was pounding, and though he heard every word Sephiroth said, he couldn't quite piece together his full meaning. The glass of water he was offered, though, he understood. He took it from Sephiroth's hands, and almost dropped it again when their fingers brushed. Sephiroth's fingers were warm. The man smiled with a hint of wickedness.

Cloud drank thirstily, and let out a breath when he'd finished the glass. He must have needed it, because it was the first time since coming to prison that he hadn't grimaced at the taste of tap water. Sephiroth lifted it from his fingers when he was done.

"Rest a while longer." Sephiroth purred. "You can keep the bottom bunk tonight. But tomorrow I'm going to make you switch."

"You don't like being on top bunk?" Cloud asked wearily.

Sephiroth just gave him a smirk and lightly pushed him back down on the bed. His palm was warm on Cloud's chest, and Cloud couldn't help the soft sigh he gave when it drew away. Sephiroth's low laughter followed him into sleep.

He roused later to a quiet prison. The halls outside the closed off cell were quiet, and the only light was the bare lightbulb in the center of their room.

It illuminated the figure below it perfectly. Cloud's first instinct was to look away, but the moment his eyes landed on Sephiroth's form he was transfixed.

The man was pulling his shirt off, his hair gathered out of the way as he did. Spread across his back was a stark, intricate tattoo. A woman's face stared out of his back, a band around her forehead that could have been a crown or a restraint. Below her chin was a dark orb, smooth and shining. Down his right arm stretched a dark wing tattoo, the feathers black and dense. On his right the tattoo shifted, forming an armored plate that curved over his shoulder, like a knight's pauldron.

Around the top of the design, thick smoke curled, mirrored on bottom of the tattoo by geometric shapes that reminded Cloud of the images of molecular structures he'd seen in some of the science books he'd picked up for leasure. The deepest, most-repressed part of himself whispered in the back of his mind how desperately he wanted to trace those marks with his teeth and tongue.

The woman's face was a captivating central image. Cloud stared at her from the bed as Sephiroth stretched his hands up over his head, his shoulder blades spreading as he pressed his palms together in a stretch. Her lips were curved in a knowing smile, and her hair fell over half her face. Where her eye should have been, a puckered red scar blossomed. Cloud blinked, focusing his eyes. Was that a bullet wound?

"Enjoying the view?" Sephiroth's voice cut through Cloud's musings, and he jerked his gaze off the tattoo. He was watching Cloud over his shoulder, a calm look on his face as he lowered his arms. He shifted his arms behind his back, putting himself on display with his hair spilling over one shoulder.

"It's beautiful." Cloud answered honestly. "I've never seen one like it."

"It was a mark of my profession." Sephiroth purred. "Though the very people who gave it to me tarnished it with a scar."

Cloud sat up slowly, wincing as the stitches in his side pulled and the agonizing cut throbbed inescapably. Sephiroth stood still a moment, displaying his back before tossing his hair into place over his shoulder. He turned to face Cloud, and Cloud's eyes flickered to the edges of the tattoo that snuck around his shoulders on either side to touch his chest and collar bones.

Cloud searched for something to say in return, but he was muted by the beauty of the man facing him. He swallowed hard, watching as Sephiroth walked forward.

"Thank you again." Cloud said softly. "You saved my life."

"Of course I did." Sephiroth said with a calm rumble in his voice. Cloud tried to meet his eyes and not stare at the perfect curves of his pectorals and abdomen. "I couldn't let my favorite librarian be destroyed by someone so unremarkable."

"So if he'd been more interesting you would have considered it?" Cloud asked, giving a half-smile.

"They would have had to be quite eye-catching to outshine you, Cloud Strife." Sephiroth purred, . "I've done a lot of looking into you."

"That's creepy." Cloud commented, shifting uncertainly.

"I'm aware." Sephiroth blinked slowly at him. The cat's-eye coloboma in his left eye was mesmerizing. It was rare, Cloud remembered from his studies, to see one so perfectly shaped. Usually they were true disfigurations. He wondered if Sephiroth wore glasses because of it.

"You're staring." Sephiroth prompted.

"You researched me," Cloud hoped he'd read the teasing note in Sephiroth's voice right, and he wasn't digging his own grave by teasing him back. "I think I can stare at little."

"Hm." Sephiroth lifted his chin a little in an almost playful invitation. "If that's how you feel about it, drink your fill."

Cloud grinned at the response, but only briefly. Then his face fell into a serious line and he shifted uncertainly. As much as he knew this man's taste in books, he did not know him. He studied him with the air of an cautious buyer eyeing a sleek sports vehicle that was not priced as highly as it should have been.

"Why me?" He asked at last. "What do you want from me?"

"Nothing untowards, if that's what you're getting at." Sephiroth said blandly, eyes calm but firm. "I'm not exactly the sort of person who needs to hunt for potential partners. They flock to me."

Cloud could see why. He was a vision. The proverbial angel of death, as appealing and inevitable as mortality itself.

"Right…" Cloud whispered. "Sorry."

"That said," Sephiroth purred after a moment, closing the last of the distance between them and crouching slowly to meet Cloud's eyes. Cloud fought the instinct to press back away from the weight of his gaze. "Your taste in literature is excellent, and you yourself are more than attractive. If you decide you are interested, though I do prefer the bottom bunk, I do not mind sharing it."

Cloud stared at him wide eyed. His mouth was dry as he stared into Sephiroth's intense gaze. The gangster had an untouchable confidence that radiated from him. His hair fell about his shoulders, perfect and shining, a sharp contrast from the dark tattoos that twisted over his shoulders. He gave Cloud a wry, curving smile that twisted his pale lips just perfectly.

"I'm interested." Cloud blurted, his eyes still fixed on Sephiroth's lips. Reason popped back into existence within his mind the moment the words left his lips. "Or I might be, anyway…"

The gangster blinked, then his wry smile split into a brief flash of a genuine grin.

"You also have seven stitches, so your interest will have to wait, my dear librarian." He said, a rich delight coloring his words. "But I am as pleased with your eagerness as I am with your taste. In partners as well as books."

Cloud felt his face heat up, and tucked his chin, placing a hand over the aching spot in his side that he'd all but forgotten while faced with the beauty of the dangerous man before him. He took a slow breath, trying to calm down before he made a bigger fool of himself.

Sephiroth reached out, his hand catching Cloud's chin and tilting his head up so that their eyes met. Cloud froze under the touch, his heart thundering as the soft fingertips brushed under his jawline, caressing even as they pulled away.

"Does it hurt?" Sephiroth asked, tilting his head.

"Only a little." Cloud replied, his voice low. "I hardly even notice."

"Hn. Tell me what books I will be picking up from you the next time." Sephiroth prompted softly. "Assuming you are not too tired."

"Weren't you getting ready for bed?" Cloud asked.

Sephiroth replied with an ineloquent shrug. "That was because you were being quite dull. There is only so long even I can watch someone sleep before it simply becomes creepy."

Cloud snorted, and let himself smile at the strange man before him. Sephiroth tilted his head a little at the look, and returned it.

"I'm sorry." Cloud said softly. "I wish I could answer your question, but I don't think the library will be open when we get out of here. I wonder what they'll do with all the books…"

"The library will be fine." Sephiroth replied, shifting and sitting on the bed at Cloud's side. Cloud scooted out of his way without prompting, fighting the urge to touch the shining hair that the gangster pulled over his shoulder. "And you will be behind its helm again in no time."

"But the city council…"

"Don't you read the paper?" Sephiroth asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Barret says it's a waste of paper, and therefore a waste of trees." Cloud said with a shrug. "I didn't feel like arguing."

Sephiroth snorted, standing and retrieving a newspaper. He handed it to Cloud, sitting near him again. Cloud watched him as he moved, holding onto the paper. It was hard to take his eyes off the man. He radiated danger and beauty. It wasn't until Sephiroth turned to him with an expectant expression that Cloud forced himself to look at the page he was holding.

The paper was folded open to a small side article. 'Generous Donor Saves Public Library.'

Cloud skimmed the article below. His lips parted in shock slowly as he looked over it. An anonymous donor, the library saved, an outpouring of community support following the 'incident' involving an arrest and the city council. Cloud blinked, shaking his head slowly and setting the newspaper aside to lift his gaze to the man who was staring blankly and mildly at the wall.

"You…" Cloud's lips parted and he turned to Sephiroth in surprise, whispering. "You saved it?"

Sephiroth gazed at him from under his eyelashes, smirking wickedly, despite the altruistic nature of Cloud's accusation.

"What…" Cloud trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut a moment, trying to force all the new plans into line inside his head before blinking them back open to stare at Sephiroth. "What _are_ you. I can't figure out if you're a hero or a villain."

"My dear librarian, you read too much." Sephiroth purred, leaning forward, bracing himself on one arm as he shifted closer without moving his legs. He hovered inches from Cloud's face, his eyes half-lidded and a smirk on his lips. "In the real world, there are no heroes and no villains. There are only bodies with minds, and a desperate internal narrative struggling to make sense of it all."

Cloud closed the distance between them without a moment more of hesitating. His lips crashed against Sephiroth with more violence than he'd intended, but the gangster didn't seem to mind in the slightest. He pressed back, and what Cloud had intended as a peck turned into a fierce, wet grapple of lips. He lifted a hand, tangling it in the fall of silver hair behind the man.

Sephiroth was all muscle and heat. He burned like a furnace, and kissed like pure sex. Cloud was high on lust within moments, and his other hand lifted to grip Sephiroth's shoulder, covering the dark ink of his tattoo. The silver-haired man pulled away laughing, his sharp teeth gleaming as he grinned.

"You are full of surprises." He purred, lifting his chin as he said the words, his eyes narrowing affectionately.

"You saved my library." Cloud rasped, staring at him in return, keeping his grip in Sephiroth's hair. "You read every book I gave you, and you told me what you thought of every one. You left me all those notes, and all that attention, and I'd have wanted you for that alone. But you saved my library, and I will be grateful for that _forever_."

"And it doesn't hurt that I'm gorgeous, does it?" Sephiroth looked like he would have been perfectly at home lounging on a tiger-skin rug as he purred the words, his thick lashes heavy over his sated, lusty eyes.

"It really doesn't." Cloud breathed in reply, loosening his grip in Sephiroth's hair and drawing the strands forward over his shoulder, his fingers carding through the length of it. It was incredibly smooth, and parted like water around Cloud's touch.

Sephiroth shifted back, sitting on the bed beside Cloud again and watching him through the corner of his eye as he turned partially away.

"Don't be grateful to me." He murmured after a moment. "Just be with me instead. After all, I'd have saved the library on principal alone. That it benefited you was merely the icing on the cake."

"You said yourself you can have anyone you wanted." Cloud whispered. "So why me? Really? I'm not much. I didn't even carry through on the one dangerous, exciting thing I've ever been part of. I'm a librarian, I live in a crappy little apartment in a painfully gentrified neighborhood… What could someone like you want with me?"

"Perhaps I have enough of danger elsewhere." Sephiroth murmured, leaning back on the bed. "And I would enjoy conversation and companionship more than adventure."

Cloud blinked at the picture he made, braced on his arms, his triceps an anatomical artist's dream, with a pensive look on his calm face. He shifted a little, finding a more comfortable way to sit in bed, and smiled at the image Sephiroth made.

"Well," he said after a moment. "We were talking about you reading a few more of the classics, right? I think One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest would suit you."

"It does." Sephiroth purred, his expression melting into a quiet pleasure. His green eyes returned to Cloud. "Ken Kesey is a personal favorite of mine."

They talked all night. Sephiroth's voice was low and pleasant. It was even better than the voice Cloud had envisioned while reading the notations left in the books that the anonymous caller left for him.

They talked all the next day too. Sephiroth introduced Cloud to Genesis and Angeal as his Left and Right hands, and Cloud tried not to be too disturbed by that. He stopped being worried at all when Genesis instantly objected to being called his right hand and demanded to be his left.

"I will not be relegated to being your non-dominant appendage!" The red-haired man barked, pointing at Sephiroth sharply across the table from their disturbingly nice breakfasts.

"Just let him be your left." Angeal rumbled gruffly. "It's easier that way. Nice to finally meet you, Cloud. How are your stitches?"

"Um, itchy." Cloud replied, floundering at Sephiroth's side with all eyes in the prison upon him.

"You're precious." Genesis said mildly, his annoyance flicked off like a candle blown out and a charming smile turned his way. "You're a librarian, right? Tell me you've read Loveless."

"Of course." Cloud responded slowly. "It's one of the favorite biblio-mysteries in the world. I wrote a paper in college on my assumptions regarding the narrative's set up, the lore of the time, and the potential implications those variables had on the missing final act…"

"Oh." Genesis blinked, then a slow smile crossed his face. "Oh very good. You can stay."

Cloud wasn't sure whether to feel disturbed or pleased by that. The way Sephiroth lifted his eyes to stare at the ceiling as though trying to derive patience from it, and the sympathetic glance Angeal cast him didn't help him make up his mind.

By the end of the first day, he'd heard Loveless quoted more times than he ever cared to, and had debated the ending with the redhead at such length that eventually he had surrendered just to escape the conversation for a few moments.

"I should have warned you." Sephiroth muttered once they were locked back in the cell that evening. "He is very enthusiastic."

"I like him." Cloud responded. "I almost wish I was energetic enough to keep up."

"But then I'd never get you back." Sephiroth purred, casting him a sultry glance. "And that would be a pity. Keep me up to date on how you're healing, won't you? I'm eager to have you well."

Cloud swallowed hard, and lifted his shirt to check on the bandage that Aerith the nurse had changed just earlier that day.

"Heal fast." He ordered himself, gratified when Sephiroth let a soft chuckle escape him.

Cloud slept a lot in the days that followed. Sephiroth encouraged the habit, and spent his time reading the books that Cloud had brought to the prison with him. He finished Catch 22 in a day, and discussed it with Cloud when he awoke. It was the most intimate bookclub Cloud had ever been a part of. He couldn't wait until he was healed enough to be a more active participant. After all, Sephiroth had a set of three books he'd been permitted to keep in his cell that Cloud had never even heard of before.

He did his very best to keep up with Aerith's instructions and staying on the mending path.

On the third day of staying with Sephiroth, he got a message from the court that his case was going through to the appeals circuit. Cloud had thought for sure that his useless lawyer had forgotten all about appealing. He noticed a different lawyers name on the bottom of the missive, and wondered if the state had assigned him someone new for the appeal. He didn't look forward to having to explain to yet another rich disinterested man in a business suit why he'd wanted to destroy one government building to save another.

Sephiroth had eyes all over the prison, and gladly accepted Cloud's request to learn how long Barret would be away. The same evening Cloud received the note about his appeal, a guard dropped by to inform Sephiroth that Barret was in solitary for twenty days. Cloud watched in open shock as Sephiroth thanked him mildly and leaned against his door to chat through the barred window with the guard as though they were old pals. He waited until the uniformed man had gone on his way to mention it.

"You're friends?" Cloud asked softly.

"Not at all." Sephiroth chuckled as he returned. "He used to be an active officer. He arrested me once. I respect his tenacity, and he appreciates me not making his job difficult while I'm here."

Cloud mentally added that note to the internal study he'd been working on as he tried to discover Sephiroth's true character.

The next day, it rained outside, and they spent what would have been another afternoon in the yard locked in their cells. Cloud was excited for the reading time, and with Sephiroth's help set up a little reading nook with their mattresses and blankets in one of the cell's corners. He was settled in to enjoy the day reading one of the three books his new room mate had brought to prison with himself. He wasn't counting on a distraction.

Sephiroth spent the afternoon pacing, his long-sleeved orange top discarded, leaving him in his white tank-top undershirt. Cloud leafed through the book Sephiroth had passed him, "Death by Silver." It seemed excellent, but Cloud couldn't focus. At first, it was because Sephiroth looked so startlingly pale in the top, then because he realized how nicely it clung to his muscular torso, then because the other man still hadn't settled down after what must have been an hour. Eventually, Cloud closed the book slowly, marking his place with a finger.

"Are you okay?" He asked from where he was sitting with a blanket around his shoulders, leaning against the mattress covered wall while sitting on the other cushioned surface.

Sephiroth glanced over, and for a moment his eyes were distant and cold—closed off. Then he lifted a hand to run through his hair and let out a slow breath. Cloud watched him force himself to relax.

"Rain makes some of my scars hurt." The gangster kept his voice low. "Sorry for being distracting. Continue reading. I'll be still."

"I'd rather help, if I can." Cloud set the book aside, taking brief note of the page number. "I'm not great at massage, but I could give you a rub if you think it would help."

The look Sephiroth cast him was anything but innocent, and Cloud wheezed out a breath as he realized what he'd just said. He'd never have overcome the mortification, but Sephiroth started laughing. The way the laughter lightened the intensity of his eyes made certain that Cloud couldn't feel too bad about it.

"Thank you, but no," the man laughed. "I'm afraid it would only hurt more. Heat helps, but as much sway as I have hot packs and anything more than generic painkillers are still beyond me."

"Well," Cloud shifted, pressing back into the corner and lifting the cover he was wearing. I'm pretty warm. If it's your back that's bothering you, you could…"

Sephiroth blinked at him, then gave a low sigh, lowering his head. His smile warmed.

"Thank you." He murmured, moving over slowly and sitting before Cloud on the mattress. "I'll try not to crush you."

Cloud pressed his face to the back of Sephiroth's shoulder for a moment, hiding against the strong muscles there.

"I wouldn't mind too much…" He muttered against Sephiroth's tank top.

He hooked his chin over the gangster's shoulder, pressing against his back with his legs splayed on either side of Sephiroth's hips to get as much of his own heat against Sephiroth's aching bullet scar as possible.

"Want to keep reading?" Sephiroth offered.

"I'm a little nearsighted." Cloud replied, lifting a hand to shift Sephiroth's hair out of his face. "I'd practically have to strangle you to see it from here."

"Well we don't want that." Sephiroth said, his voice a low rumble. "Shall I read to you?"

Cloud bit his lip, trying to restrain his reaction to those words. He knew very well that Sephiroth would be able to feel the slightest twitch of arousal in their current position.

"If you want to." Cloud replied at last when he was sure his voice would hold steady. "I was on page thirty five."

Sephiroth read to him till the guards came to collect Cloud to see Aerith. When he returned from the nurse the proud owner of seven fewer stitches than he'd had that morning, he was delighted to be able to tell Sephiroth.

But when he stepped into the cell once more, he found the gangster asleep in their little nook, and couldn't bring himself to wake him, even for the good news. a little pride swelled in his chest looking at how calmly Sephiroth was sleeping, aware that the dangerous man would still have been pacing and shoving the pain aside rather than resting if he hadn't brought it up.

"Welcome back." Sephiroth muttered, halfway opening an eye.

"Go back to sleep." Cloud replied, picking up the book and sitting at Sephiroth's side. "I'll keep reading."

Sephiroth yawned wide enough that Cloud could admire his sharp canines for a moment, then shifted till he could pillow his head on Cloud's shoulder. Cloud froze for a moment, glancing over at the silver hair pooling in his lap and the handsome face of the man going to sleep on him. Then he relaxed with a smile, wrapping one arm around Sephiroth's shoulders and opening the book with his other.

He tried not to think too hard about the vast difference between the sleepy achy man he was seeing right then and there and the cold, sly gangster who had neatly executed someone right in front of Cloud's face without ever needing to lift a weapon.

He read the book the rest of the way through, then started it over just to be sure he'd gotten every moment of narrative out of it with his full attention. By that time his shoulder was starting to ache from having Sephiroth's head resting on it, and he carefully shifted him to lean against the mattress-covered wall instead.

Sephiroth shifted a little as he leaned against it, finding a comfortable position. Cloud saw an opportunity to be part of that position and ducked under Sephiroth's arm, snuggling up to his side.

"Careful." Sephiroth sighed sleepily. "You'll pull your stitches."

"I don't have stitches anymore." Cloud chuckled, pressing a kiss to Sephiroth's chest where he'd settled. "So don't worry about it."

"You don't?" Sephiroth asked in a low voice. "And here I am too tired to take advantage."

"Pity, right?" Cloud chuckled. "There's always tomorrow."

"We'll see." Sephiroth replied softly. "Comfortable?"

"Mmhmm." Cloud snuggled up against him. "You're warm."

"You too." Sephiroth muttered.

The next day, Cloud discovered why Sephiroth's hair still looked nice despite the infrequent showers. Guards showed up at six in the morning to open their cell door for them, and Sephiroth led Cloud down to the shower room. It was empty except for the two of them, and they picked two showerheads next to one another.

"How long do we have?" Cloud asked when they were left alone.

"Roughly an hour." Sephiroth said in reply.

Cloud undressed slowly, watching Sephiroth do the same. He could not have kept his eyes above his waist line if his life had depended on it.

Sephiroth was glorious all over.

"Do you want to…?" Cloud let the question trail off.

"Yes." Sephiroth replied mildly.

Cloud's heart was racing as he pulled his shirt off and let his pants follow, refusing to blush and cower. He had nothing to be ashamed of either, though in comparison to Sephiroth he wasn't exactly _well_ endowed.

"It's," Cloud caught a breath, disappointment welling along with excitement. "It's just for fun, right? Just for sex."

"I rarely do anything for only one reason." Sephiroth replied, turning on a shower head and stepping out of its spray, letting it run. "Or anyone."

Cloud spluttered at the joke, but something in him lightened as Sephiroth crossed the space between them, catching one of his hands and giving it a gentle squeeze. Cloud blushed and averted his eyes as he felt Sephiroth's other hand touching his side, inspecting the mark the shiv had left on him.

"I will not proclaim my love," Sephiroth murmured, sliding his hand up Cloud's side with a slow, tender, inevitable movement, ending at Cloud's chin. "But I am fond of you. I will not simply fuck you and vanish, and I will not be cruel. After all, you are my favorite librarian."

Cloud lifted a hand and cupped the back of Sephiroth's head, drawing him forward. They met in a kiss, and Cloud let himself relax at the warm feel of Sephiroth's lips against his. He could have crushed his lips against his teeth and made him bleed, or suffocated him with his strength. Instead, his kiss was as gentle and thorough as it was heated. By the time they parted, Cloud was aroused and flushed.

"There's just one thing." Cloud said, placing a hand lightly on Sephiroths chest, feeling the man's heartbeat under his palm.

"Which is?" Sephiroth purred. "Having reservations about my character and intent?"

"Ah, no." Cloud chuckled. "I've just about given up on trying to figure you out. You're just who and what you are, and I think that I like at least most of you."

Sephiroth's smile quirked up an extra half inch at the corner, a look of happiness added to the look of lust. "Then what?"

"I'm having reservations about our lack of lubricant." Cloud replied honestly, cutting his eyes to the side and raking a hand through his hair.

Sephiroth gave him a knowing smirk. "Have you been worrying about that this whole time without ever mentioning it to me?"

"Maybe a little." Cloud muttered. "It was kind of secondary to the hole in my side."

"I'm not going to do anything that would hurt you." Sephiroth said, his eyes still narrowed in lust. His lithe fingers slid up over Cloud's cheek in an intimate brush of his skin. "But there are many things we can do without penetration. And who knows. Give me a couple days, and perhaps my contacts will come through."

"You have lubricant contacts?" Cloud asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"I am a very thorough businessman." Sephiroth replied with a slow grin.

By the time their hour in the shower was up, Cloud was weak-kneed and very convinced that Sephiroth had been telling the truth. He was very thorough indeed. The lack of lubricant had in no way diminished the joy they took in one anothers bodies.

Cloud knew even while it was happening that he would never forget the moment Sephiroth knelt before him, hooking one of Cloud's legs over his back. The motion had forced Cloud to lean against the wall for support. The image of Sephiroth grinning up at him with those sharp teeth before taking his erection into his mouth, all danger and pleasure, would never leave Cloud's fantasies.

But as much as it had been fun to be pleasured by the man, and to give all he had to pleasure him in return, what followed had been the truly remarkable experience.

Cloud had never expected to enjoy washing anyone's back as much as he'd enjoyed washing Sephiroth's. But there was something about being permitted to touch the intimate beauty of his tattoo, and the slightly-swollen blossom of the bullet scar that made even that immaculate piece of him seem human and real. Cloud had washed the man's back with a careful eye for perfection, and had found himself enjoying even more when Sephiroth returned the favor.

They returned to their cell well-washed, and spent the afternoon lounging together on the bottom bunk. Sephiroth stroked intimate touches up and down Cloud's side as they muttered through their yawns about the humor and truth of Catch 22, and whether or not Young Adult was a proper label to describe books, or a market segmentation technique.

Two days later found Cloud meeting with his new attorney, a man named Reeve Tuesti who did not look in the slightest like a state-appointed representative. He was dressed to the nines, with a perfectly-fitted black tie. He told Cloud he'd taken on his case pro-bono at the request of a friend.

Cloud barely heard another word he said. He knew who that friend had to be, and the thought bothered him for the rest of their meeting.

"Did you hire me a lawyer?" He asked darkly as he re-entered the cell.

"You're angry." Sephiroth said in reply, setting aside the newspaper he'd been reading. "You didn't like him? He's one of the best."

"Are you trying to buy me?" Cloud asked, his eyes narrowed. "A lawyer, the library, all this special cushy treatment…"

"Reeve volunteered to take your case after I told him the circumstances." Sephiroth said, his eyes closing off instantly at Cloud's words and a grim frown reaching his usually calm expression. "And I told you already. I'd have saved the library even if you hadn't been there."

"Why?" Cloud asked sharply. "You keep saying that, but you haven't told me why."

"Watch your tone." Sephiroth warned, his eyes narrowing. "I like you. Your enthusiasm and ferocity are part of that, but I do not appreciate being compared to a pimp or a John."

Cloud balked a little, then frowned, averting his eyes. He crossed his arms defensively, feeling strangely exposed before the man who'd been so inexplicably generous.

"Libraries are important." Sephiroth said at last, rising off the bed only to pace across the room from Cloud, leaning against the far wall to speak. "They are bastions of knowledge, free-thinking, and peace. They are what gave me the strength and knowledge I needed to leave the Yakuza and strike out on my own. As for Reeve, I read up on your case. Your defense was a sham, and your conviction unwarranted. Not a single piece of the evidence used against you should have been admissible in court."

"So suddenly you're all for justice." Cloud replied sharply. "I thought you were a gangster."

"I am." Sephiroth said with a shrug. "And when it suits me, I go against the law. That does not mean I think that innocent people should be punished for thought crimes. You cannot tell me you thought your conviction was fair."

"Well…" Cloud trailed off, his eyes lowering. He felt his steam and anger slowly evaporating, and resented it quietly for abandoning him. "No. No, I didn't."

"Midgar has become an Orwellian dystopia, and I will not permit that. Not to the extent of libraries being destroyed and thought being punished. I am a gangster, yes. I am a murderer, and by all accounts a monster. But I will not stand idly by in a world where people who are not monsters or killers—people like you—are punished with half their lives spent in prison for a crime where no one was hurt."

"What about Barret then," Cloud asked, shaking his head. "And Biggs, and Wedge. Barret's got a kid at home. If anyone deserves better representation it's him. I don't want special treatment just because you like me."

Sephiroth gazed at him evenly a moment, then gave a slow nod.

"You are very like another friend of mine." Sephiroth murmured. "You would get along well with Zack."

"Who is he?" CLoud asked skeptically.

"A friend." Sephiroth replied with a shrug. "Angeal brought him into the fold thinking he would make a capable fighter and an excellent agent when we needed someone to blend in with a crowd. Unfortunately, he's… Also very fair-minded, and has encouraged us to change many of the goings on of our business."

"Heh." Cloud glanced down, shifting a little. "I probably would like him, then."

"I am not a good man, Cloud Strife." Sephiroth said, his voice grim. The way he said it drew Cloud's attention back to his serious expression. "And if you thought I was, I apologize for the oversight. I am selfish and strong enough to bend the world to my whims. I make no secret of that. If it makes you uncomfortable, one word from me and you will be placed with another safe prisoner for the remainder of your stay here. I will not trap you with me."

"You're wrong about me too," Cloud said softly, shaking his head. "I'm not a good man either. I'm a coward, I'm indecisive, and I'm weak. It's not that I like this world or the things this government does. I'm just not strong enough to change any of it, so I let it go. It was only once they put my library in danger that I even tried…"

Sephiroth stared evenly at him. "And tell me, Cloud. Why was it so important to you? Because it was your job and source of income?"

"No." Cloud shook his head. "No, that's not why."

"I didn't think so." Sephiroth purred.

"A library…" Cloud clenched his teeth, shaking his head. "It's the best of humanity. It's our love for sharing knowledge in a place. To close it down, to send all those people away, to pretend that making books inaccessable is any less evil than burning them… All for what, a budget that gets half-wasted on the same damn politicians deciding to close down every piece of the city that doesn't benefit them personally?"

His voice raised in anger as he spoke, and his fists clenched. Across the room, Sephiroth was watching him with that same distant, closed-off look. Cloud let out a slow breath, dropping his head and forcing himself to relax.

"Sorry." He whispered after a moment of silence. "I didn't mean to yell."

"And you call yourself weak." Sephiroth tisked, shaking his head. "If you were a little less kind-hearted, I would ask you to join my organization. You have a ruthlessness inside you, Cloud. And to think yourself a coward when you defended what truly matters is the height of folly."

Cloud swallowed, and lifted a hand to hide his eyes. He didn't want Sephiroth to see how upset he was. He hoped he looked like he had a headache.

"I'm sorry for what I said too." He said after a moment. "I'm grateful to you. Reeve is excellent."

"Then why are you so unhappy?" Sephiroth asked, his low voice intimate and careful.

"It sounds insane." Cloud whispered.

"I like a crazy idea as much as the next gangster." Sephiroth said.

"He says he'll have me out by the end of the month." Cloud whispered, wiping his hand fiercely over his eyes. "But a part of me doesn't want to leave. I've… It really sounds crazy, but I've made more friends here than I ever have before in my life."

"Who's to say you have to give them up to return to your day to day life?" Sephiroth asked, tilting his head. "I'm sure Avalanche would welcome your input. A librarian is a powerful force to have on one's side, after all."

"It's not just Barret." Cloud whispered, his brows furrowing as he lifted his head to stare at Sephiroth.

The gangster watched him evenly for a moment, waiting for more. Then his eyes widened a fraction of an inch as he realized Cloud's meaning. Cloud watched his hand twitch, lifting just a bit before the man forced it back to his side. A slow breath followed the motion, expanding the broad chest under the white tank top.

"I see." Sephiroth whispered after a long moment.

"I know I'm not the sort of person you want to be associated with outside of here." Cloud dropped his head, jamming his hands into the pockets of his garish orange pants. "I was hoping I'd have a little more time to get to know you… Before you were just a voice over the phone again."

"It will be too dangerous for you." Sephiroth agreed after a moment. "You are a citizen, Cloud. And a good one. To know me, to associate with me… It could ruin your life. Your career."

"Maybe I want a little danger just as much as you want some peace." Cloud whispered, lifting his head to gaze at Sephiroth. "You said your friend Zack was changing things, right? Are you going to let him?"

"I haven't decided." Sephiroth replied after a moment.

"Well." Cloud said softly. "If you do decide, look me up… Okay?"

Sephiroth nodded slowly, but Cloud could see the stubborn, unhappy clench of his jaw. His stomach sunk at the look. It was the look of a man not easily changed.

"Take the bottom bunk tonight." The man said softly, turning away from Cloud after holding eye-contact with him for a long while. "I'll take the top."

Cloud watched him swing neatly into the top bunk without bothering with the ladder, and tried not to let himself cry. For some reason, the words sounded like a 'goodbye.'

The next day, after Aerith checked on the healing of his injury in the afternoon, he was taken to a different room. Cid Highwind was there, chewing on a contraband cigarette. Cloud would be safe with him, he knew. That didn't mean he would be happy.

To his surprise, Cid seemed to not only accept that, but sympathize as well. He didn't ask him why until late that night when Cid handed him his book "Space Chronicles: Facing the Ultimate Frontier" to read rather than sleeping.

"Well, I'm a big ol' gay too." Cid replied with a wave of his hand. "Sorry things didn' work out with yer boyfriend is all."

Cloud looked down at the book he'd been handed and gave a half smile. "Yeah." He muttered. "I'm sorry too."

Reeve Tuesti was as good as his word. Within a month, Cloud was free. His apartment was still waiting for him, but more because the Superintendent hadn't found anyone to fill it than because of any generosity. His job was still waiting for him too, but for the same reason.

Still, it was a pleasant surprise to find that at least some of his coworkers respected what he'd done. The quiet good-natured ribbing of the other librarians over their resident terrorist bibliophile was surprisingly welcome. Cloud was glad to know that he wouldn't have to pretend it had never happened.

Every book he shelved, he wondered if Sephiroth would like. Every time he saw something environmental pass his desk, he thought of Barret and wondered what would become of him and the daughter he'd heard so much about. Every entry in the technical section reminded him of Biggs and Wedge. Outer space and airplanes brought the gruff weirdo Cid who'd been his roommate for the last of his days in prison to mind.

He wrote to Avalanche that evening, and mailed the letters to the prison that night, wishing them all well. He hadn't gotten to say goodbye to any of them but Cid. He included his phone number, though not his address. He knew better than that.

He didn't write to Sephiroth, Genesis, or Angeal. He didn't know what he would say if he did.

Days slid by. He tried to remember what it was like to be free. He read endlessly, but it made him melancholy. The television was a bore without Barret there to yell about how much electricity Televisions used to be broadcasting such useless crap.

By the end of his first week of freedom, he'd accepted that his life would be boring again. The worthiness of his work made it worthwhile. Matching people with books they would love, introducing kids to new concepts, and seeing the library flourish in the community that had almost killed it was immensely satisfying.

He found himself watching the phone on Wednesday, waiting for the bi-weekly call from the mysterious book-lover. He shook his head at his own foolishness, and tried not to be too disappointed when every time the phone rang there was no whisper of Sephiroth's voice on the other end. Most of the callers wanted to know if the library's wifi was working.

That night he volunteered to stay late for the shelver who had a kid home sick and who'd been scheduled to be the one to close the library. It was an eerie shift sometimes. The library was darkened, all the superfluous reading lights shut down. It was always a quiet building, but when there was nothing to listen to but his own footsteps and breathing, it seemed almost sacred.

At least, until the phone rang with a violent intensity. The security guard dozing by the front desk, waiting for his shift to finish with Cloud's at 10pm jumped out of his doze and glared at the phone.

"You don't have to answer." He muttered to Cloud as the blond crossed to pick up the phone.

"I know," Cloud said with a shrug. "But better than letting it ring."

He picked up the phone with a sigh, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Behind him, the security guard grunted noncommittally.

"Midgar Edge Public Library, how can I help you?"

"Two things," the vaguely familiar voice said on the other side. "First, do you have a copy of the 1987 translation of Loveless available yet, because if not I have two and I'd like to donate one of them, and second, when are you off work and can I give you a lift home."

"Genesis." Cloud whispered, eyes lowering. "Are you waiting outside?"

"Nothing so creepy." Genesis purred over the phone, and there was no doubt it was him. No one else sounded so much like velvet. He spoke even the most mundane words with the touch of a poet. "You're a friend, not a target."

"I'm not sure I believe you." Cloud whispered.

"I'm wounded." Genesis chuckled on the other end of the line.

"Call back tomorrow to find out about Loveless," Cloud said coldly. "We're closed."

"Cloud." Genesis's voice lost all trace of laughter in a moment. "He wants to see you. Will you speak with him, or not?"

"Do I have a choice?" Cloud asked, turning his back on the guard more firmly to try and hide the conversation.

"You say no, I drive away right now, no questions asked, and never call again." Genesis promised softly. "But I don't want to do that."

"Why not, because you'd piss your boss off?"

"Because you are important to my friend." Genesis corrected coldly. "And I think you know that."

Cloud stood still, holding the phone, his heart thundering and the previously comforting library gaping empty around him. He bit his lip and gave a slow nod to himself.

"I'm not quite done." He muttered. "Might take me fifteen minutes or so."

"Oh good," Genesis purred in response. "I can go get a cup of coffee. Want anything?"

"What the hell," Cloud muttered. "Sure. I'll pay you back."

Genesis scoffed on the other end, and was still laughing when he hung up. Cloud scowled at the phone and hung it up sharply.

"Problem, son?" The guard asked in a low voice.

"Family friend." Cloud responded darkly. "Very very annoying family friend."

"Heh." The guard tilted his baseball cap down over his eyes again. "I hear you there."

Genesis was fifteen more minutes late, but he did have coffees.

"No 'sorry for the delay?'" Cloud asked with an arched eyebrow as Genesis strode out of the stylish car, looking like sex on legs, decked out in a tight black turtleneck sweater and a heavy red leather duster.

"Don't be such a princess." Genesis scoffed, tossing his hair and thrusting Cloud's coffee into his hands. "Here. It's black, but I have sugar and cream in the car."

"Who keeps sugar and cream in their car?" Cloud muttered, following him towards the enormous black SUV that would have given Barret conniption fits about gas-consumption.

"Someone with a very nice car." Genesis opened the door for him even as he teased.

Cloud climbed into the passenger's seat cautiously, and was alarmed to find the car empty.

"He's not here?" He asked, turning to Genesis.

"He didn't want you to feel pressured." Genesis replied. "Or endangered. Nothing like having a killer you don't trust sitting behind you in a car."

"I never said I don't trust him." Cloud muttered.

"Cream's in the center console if you want it." Genesis said instead of answering, starting up the engine. "I hope you don't mind, I'm listening to the operatic rendition of Loveless."

"It's fine." Cloud muttered, opening the center console and staring into it as he realized that it was refrigerated inside. He suddenly felt very underdressed, and extraordinarily poor.

He blinked in surprise as Genesis drove up to the entrance to a gated community that looked just a little richer than usual.

"What, he doesn't have a mansion?" He asked the redhead.

Genesis glanced at him, pulling up to the gate and reaching a hand through the window to press a finger against the fingerprint reader there. It gave a beep and opened for him.

"Of course not." Genesis replied. "That would look much too messy. He does, however, own this entire area and every house in it. Lets all of us coworkers stay nearby in case of emergency."

"Son of a bitch." Cloud whispered, taking a slow drink of his coffee as they drove around the circle of nice houses. The nicest was the one Genesis stopped in front of. Cloud hesitated, staring up at the house with its intimidatingly nice lawn and ferns hanging outside the front door. There were big bay windows and the architecture was elegant, if subdued.

"Well?" Genesis asked. "Going to chicken out now?"

"No." Cloud said firmly. "Thanks for the coffee."

"Hn." Genesis sounded amused as Cloud opened the door. Or maybe that was pleasure in his voice. "Not a problem."

Cloud shut the SUV's door firmly behind him and walked up the path to the illuminated porch before him. The door opened before he reached it, and he paused halfway up the stairs, arrested by the sight of familiar green eyes. Sephiroth looked even more glorious out of his Prison garb. He wore a long coat similar to Genesis's, but dark. Below it, his attire was semi-formal, a button-down shirt that looked dark blue in the light of his porch and handsomely fitted slacks. Cloud swallowed around a suddenly dry mouth.

"Cloud." Sephiroth murmured.

"You couldn't have just talked to me like a normal person." Cloud said softly. "You had to send one of your men to collect me and bring me here?"

"I thought it would cause less disruption than me showing up at your job, and less anxiety than showing up at your home."

Cloud let out a breath, closing his eyes for a moment. "Well… You're not wrong about that."

"Will you come in?" Sephiroth asked.

"Are there a bunch of skull thrones and trophies from your vanquished victims?" Cloud asked, only halfway joking.

Sephiroth gave a hint of a chuckle and shook his head. "Not downstairs, at least."

"So upstairs is the skull collection then." Cloud teased hesitantly, ascending the rest of the stairs slowly.

"Chandelier of human bone and everything, I'm sure." Sephiroth purred. He sobered after returning the jibe, his eyes fixed on Cloud's expression and his lips falling out of their confident smirk. "Cloud, I'm sorry for forcing you to leave things as we did. That was unfair of me."

"Yeah." Cloud said. "It was. But thanks for apologizing."

"Will you join me for coffee?"

"Genesis already covered that." Cloud commented, lifting his beverage.

"Coffee cake, then." Sephiroth amended. "I have a fairly nice one waiting. I would never be able to finish it by myself."

"Well." Cloud said. "If it's for the sake of the coffee cake."

He stepped into the house past Sephiroth, and was surprised to find that the inside of his house was tasteful and elegant as he was. It looked strangely home-like. Cloud didn't know what he was expecting. Maybe a Bond-villain's lair. But if anything it was a little austere. It wasn't until Sephiroth closed the door behind him that Cloud realized he really wasn't worried about having his back turned on the man.

He took a slow breath and let it out again, wondering if things really might be okay.

* * *

"Sorry I'm late!" Cloud stepped free of the disturbingly rickety secret elevator and into the meeting room. "Some kid re-organized the YA section so the first letters of book titles spelled dirty words, the little asshole. Took forever to fix."

"Watch your damn mouth, Spikey!" Barret hollered, pointing sharply at him. "I don't want my Marlene learning any words from you!"

"Hi, Cloud!" Marlene sang sweetly from where she sat on one of the bar stools. "Tifa's teaching me how to make a 'screwdriver.' But if you want one I'm gunna have to see some ID, buddy!"

"Good job, Marlene." Tifa praised, rounding the bar. "And glad you made it, Cloud."

Cloud glanced around the room, watching Cid chew on his cigarette and Biggs pat the smouldering Barret's shoulder. Jessie and Wedge were both looking over a piece of tech, but Jessie paused long enough to shoot Cloud a winning smile before turning back to her work.

"Glad to be here." Cloud breathed, allowing himself a little smile as he pulled off his backpack. "So! What's today's plot? I brought the books, but I've had a hard time piecing together 'the solar-powered engineering guide,' and 'repelling for beginners.' What's Avalanche up to this time?"

"We're goin' for lower-impact messages," Barret replied gruffly. "Explosions and fires are bad for the environment too."

"So this time we're taking a stealthier approach." Tifa took the heavy bag of books from Cloud with one hand, as though it weighed nothing. "We'll be covering Shinra in solar panels to power a massive sign with our logo. Needless to say, it's taking some planning."

"I'm not going to lie," Cloud said with a laugh. "That sounds pretty cool."

"Did he bring me a book this time?" Marlene called, bouncing off the barstool and over to Tifa.

"Mm, The Princess and the Lord of Night by Jane Yolen." Tifa read as she pulled the book out. "Looks right up your alley, Marlene."

"No getting rescued by princes, right?" Marlene asked, casting Cloud a suspicious look.

"I know better than that." Cloud said with a laugh. "I don't want your father or Tifa to lecture me."

"How's your resident book-lover, by the way?" Tifa asked. "Any luck getting him to stop using those awful old SUVs?"

Cloud gave a laugh. "Yeah. He bought his crew hybrid convertibles. Genesis is thrilled. Angeal doesn't seem to impressed, though. Zack's just happy he's high enough in the ranks to get a car now. But I don't think we'll ever pry their leather jackets away, the divas."

"He been readin' those books I send?" Barret asked, pointing at Cloud again. "You better be giving them a look too!"

"I just finished Silent Spring, and he started it yesterday." Cloud replied, waving off his concern. "You'll turn him into a bleeding heart environmentalist in no time, Barret."

"Good!" The man crossed his arm over his rather high-tech prosthetic, looking distinctly pleased that he could complete the motion. "He's a good contact to have. I'd hate to have to burn down one of his non-eco-friendly endeavors."

"Enough chit-chat about my boyfriend." Cloud objected. "Come on. Fill me in and tell me how I can help."

Behind him, the elevator whirred into motion. The entire room froze, eyes turning to the wall. They were all present and accounted for. No one else should have been coming.

Marlene ducked behind the counter, and Cloud moved behind Tifa, pulling the knife from his pocket sheath.

"Jesse, Wedge, tech in the closet." Barret ordered sharply.

The elevator door opened just as they'd hidden away the last of their equipment. Sephiroth stepped through with an arched brow.

"Sephiroth!" Cloud scolded instantly, sheathing his knife as the rest of the room sucked in a collective breath. "You can't just barge in like that. Why didn't you call ahead of time?"

"You don't get a signal down here." Sephiroth commented. "I could fix that with fifty dollars and half an hour."

"What do you want, gangster." Barret said, his voice tense and uncertain.

Sephiroth lifted the book Silent Spring. "I finished reading. I recognized the chemical names. I know of two warehouses where the chemicals mentioned are still manufactured. I would like to help shut them down."

"And why's that?" Tifa asked suspiciously.

"Well." Sephiroth's eyes turned to Cloud, and they softened just a touch, a little flicker of a smile crossing his face. "Let's just say altruism has done well by me in the past."

Cloud glanced to Barret for permission, and the bigger man huffed out a breath.

"Fine then!" He said gruffly. "But you're in my house, so my rules!"

"Technically 7th Heaven is mine." Tifa corrected, arching an eyebrow.

"I don't intend to cause any trouble." Sephiroth said mildly, smiling as Cloud crossed the room to settle at his side.

"Come meet my girl, then." Barret grumbled. "Marlene, this is Sephiroth."

"I know him!" Marlene cried happily as she popped around from behind the counter. "He's the one you call Scumbag, daddy!"

Sephiroth's laughter was absolutely delighted, and Cloud smiled fondly, leaning against his brick wall of a boyfriend and letting himself relax.

Prison was definitely the best thing that had ever happened to him.


End file.
